Lebanon: When Geography Becomes a Liability

One increasingly hears voices lamenting their fate: why were we born in this corner of the world? For Lebanon's geographical position has placed it, today, in a situation that few would envy.

Geography is not a blind destiny, and yet it constitutes a rigid framework that delimits the field of the possible and narrows the margin for error. In geopolitics, as Robert D. Kaplan reminds us in The Revenge of Geography, geography does not dissolve behind slogans; it reasserts itself whenever states choose to ignore it, and most acutely for small states situated on fault lines. Lebanon is one of them, caught between two powerful neighbours: one a vast military garrison housing one of the largest armies in the world, backed by the United States, and one that we helped restore to its occupation of Lebanon; the other having already exercised prolonged domination and a heavy-handed tutelage over Lebanon under the authoritarian Assad regime.

Lebanon thus constitutes a glaring example of a country in which geographical position plays a decisive role. Its situation between Israel to the south and Syria to the east and north, along an open Mediterranean coastline, made it historically a space of transit and exchange rather than an arena of confrontation. Michel Chiha grasped this singularity early on: the narrowness of the coast, the elevation of the mountain and the absence of continental strategic depth push the Lebanese toward the sea — that is, toward trade, openness and mediation — rather than toward wars and conflicts. Our Phoenician history bears witness to this.

In this sense, Lebanese geography was never designed for a military role, but for an economic and civilisational one. The dangerous turn came when Lebanon deviated from this vocation and allowed itself to be drawn gradually into regional conflicts that exceeded its capacities, transforming itself from a space of equilibrium into a theatre of confrontation.

In this context, invoking a "curse of geography" amounts to a misreading of the situation. The problem does not lie in the position itself, but in the manner in which it is used. The geography that could have been a source of prosperity — as it was during a certain modern period — became a source of danger the moment it was used as a platform for other people's conflicts, and the moment the state lost its monopoly over the decision of war and peace.

It is here that the Lebanese situation converges with a historical transformation that Alexis de Tocqueville had identified in Democracy in America. In the era of empires, small entities were easily absorbed; but with the emergence of concepts of sovereignty and the rights of peoples, and then with the appearance of an international order embodied in the United Nations, it became possible in principle to protect small states through legal rules and international resolutions.

This transformation, however significant, did not abolish the logic of force; it reconfigured it. International law confers legitimacy but does not guarantee protection automatically. Small states are preserved not by texts alone, but when their stability becomes part of the interests of greater powers.

This is why Lebanon's crisis appears in all its complexity: Lebanon enjoys full international recognition of its sovereignty, yet lacks the internal and external conditions that would render that sovereignty defensible. Foreign interference, direct and indirect, could not have succeeded without the internal fragility that made it possible — confessional sensitivities, a divided sovereign decision, the allegiance of certain local forces to regional axes — all of this within the context of an open conflict between Iran and Israel that is conducted in part on Lebanese soil.

In this configuration, geography becomes a fatal vulnerability. A small state, geographically open, cannot afford a duality of decision, nor can it simultaneously be a party to a conflict and an entity seeking protection from it.

The solution does not lie in denying geography, but in managing it with clear-eyed realism. And this requires a redefinition of Lebanon's vocation: from theatre of conflict to space of equilibrium, from instrument of external axes to a society in pursuit of common interest.

Neutrality, in this perspective, is not a moral slogan but a conditional strategic choice. The experience of countries such as Switzerland and Austria has shown that neutrality rests upon three inseparable elements: a solid internal consensus, a unified national defence capability, and explicit international guarantees. Without these, neutrality becomes a vacuum that outside powers will not hesitate to exploit.

Lebanon stands today at a crossroads: either it remains captive to its position as a front line, or it repositions itself as an entity whose stability proves indispensable to all. This requires recovering sovereign decision-making, unifying the security framework, and anchoring the country's stability to economic, regional and international interests that would make any destabilisation costly for all parties concerned.

Lebanon's maritime facade could have meant trade, services and financial influence — as it did during the nineteen-sixties and the early seventies. Instead, it has become a country besieged, threatening and threatened, exposed to blows from all directions.

Lebanon cannot change its geography, but it can change its position within that geography. And it is only there that geography ceases to be an imposed destiny and becomes a choice managed in the service of the national interest.

One fundamental question remains: can Lebanon obtain an "international guarantee" that protects its neutrality without that neutrality becoming a form of tutelage? And what do we mean by "international guarantee"? Not a new mandate, nor foreign administration or dispossession of sovereignty, but an internationally recognised neutralisation and a collective commitment to refrain from using Lebanon as a battleground — which amounts to making Lebanese neutrality a common interest to which all parties subscribe.

The evolution of the international environment lends credence to this model: the great powers no longer want permanent flashpoints in the Middle East; the Arab states are turning toward development, favouring de-escalation and reducing disorder; Europe, for its part, needs stability in the Middle East. All of this opens a window of opportunity for Lebanon to seize.

The time has come for Lebanon to exit the cycle of conflicts, for the decision of war and peace to rest exclusively with the state, for it to serve as no axis's instrument, and for it to make its stability an interest for all rather than a burden on everyone.

For our economy, our schools, the future of our children are not bargaining chips. We refuse to be instrumentalised — from whatever direction that instrumentalisation may come.